


Out of Memory and Time

by HawkSong



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aether Sex (Final Fantasy XIV), Aftercare, Drabble, Dream Sex, Group Sex, Light Bondage, Multi, Overstimulation, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29554263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawkSong/pseuds/HawkSong
Summary: Rosemary, Warrior of Light, is having a little trouble sleeping...Takes place after 5.0 but before 5.3; basically a drabble of sorts because of Book Club discussions gone wild (again)
Relationships: Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light, Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Out of Memory and Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedreamerdelta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedreamerdelta/gifts).



> For Cethys!

You sit straight up in your bed, gasping for breath and shaking. For an instant your eyes dart around the room, expecting flames, monsters, screaming. But there are only the familiar brick walls, the waft of a cool breeze from the window, scented with apple blossoms from the orchards below. Starlight gleams off the pewter mug on your table.

You fall back against the pillows with a loud sigh, and rake your fingers through your hair to get it out of your face. Another nightmare. Why do you still dream this way?

Staring up at the ceiling, your thoughts return yet again to Amaurot, to the horrific visions that Emet-Selch...no, _Hades_...had shown you. But that is all in the past. All of it.

Slow but definite progress is being made on the problem of the Scions' wayward souls, now that you've recruited the right sort of help. There is plenty of work of every sort to keep you busy. You had even been able, at last, to go back to the Source, for a brief visit.

But the self within yourself – the Ancient that you had once been, or the memory of her – would not leave you in peace. Random memories fluttered up from the depths of your mind, triggered by a scent or the sight of a flower or the way a lover kissed you.

Yes, a lover, for you are not sleeping with the Exarch every night.

Just now, you and G'raha Tia are not quite...settled.

The two of you are yet in accord with each other. But he has been working, and working hard – and he does not require rest the way most mortals do. You are tough, but you are not capable of staying awake for seventy-two hours straight. And it is not in you to meekly wait in his chambers, hoping that he recalls you and the pleasures the two of you could be enjoying...

No. You are not that sort of woman. Your body has needs, and you are not about to defer those needs; not when you can still recall much too vividly the numbness, the lethargy, the feeling of Light flowing along all your veins and trying to lock you into stasis.

You had spoken with G'raha about the matter, after his first stint of wakefulness and focused studying. It should perhaps not have surprised you so much that he had only smiled at you, that he had understood, and had thought on the problem before you brought it up.

“I have faith in you, my love. Go, and take what ease you can in others for now. We will be together when we may, but I shall not ask more of you than you can give me.”

“But we're engaged.”

“Not formally, no.” He had grinned, that wide, sassy grin that infuriated and enchanted you by turns. “I see no reason for you to do without your pleasures if I am sadly unavailable to meet your needs.” And then he had tugged you into his arms, and had proceeded to meet your _every_ need, all night long...

The memory of that makes your core ache with lust, and you sigh again. It will be tomorrow evening before he is free again. Seeking someone out in the middle of the night was foolish and ill considered. Urianger might proffer you solace as he has done in the past, but he is not here; he is in Il Mheg, poring over musty tomes and making incredibly thorough notes – three copies of notes, no less. You have never seen him so contented.

But there is something else that you might do with these wakeful hours...

You sit up, but only enough to dig in the drawer of your nightstand.

The crystal is cool to your touch, and a faint scent of seawater yet clings to it. The metal casing is spotted in places, corroded by eons of immersion but intact. The hexagonal shaft caged within shimmers, despite there being no light directly falling on it. As it warms in your hand, sparkling lights begin to play deep within the crystal. You can hear a faint hum, in the back of your mind.

That part of your soul that was – is – Persephone awakens. She is interested in the crystal, knows what it is, knows what to do. She does not force you, merely informs you and waits.

She is very, very good at waiting, is Persephone.

You do not really have to think long and hard about this. But you hold out for a quarter hour, stubborn just on the principle of the thing. Somehow, the fact that you are trying to annoy “yourself” does not seem strange to you, though you know it likely ought to.

But at last, you hold the now-warm crystal balanced on both palms, and hum the note that hangs in your mind. You are not particularly musical, but this note is one that you feel in your bones, and you match the pitch without a wobble.

The crystal sparkles, chimes, and releases a single note that harmonizes with the one coming from your throat. A gentle blue glow swells forth, and engulfs you.

There are two of you here.

Persephone faces you, in a dimly lit space – a place bounded by walls. A closet? But the details cease to matter as she smiles. She looks nothing like you – taller, built like a dancer, with elegant hands that do not look capable of wielding the kinds of weapons you prefer. Truly, she looks like a woman who has never known war at all. Her hair is the color of sunset, of ripened wheat, of aspen leaves in autumn; it is unbound and straight and falls past her hips, cascading over her blue gown.

You glance down at yourself. You also wear a gown, and you do not feel awkward in it. It is deep green in color – you have long kept it a secret that you adore forest green, but obviously Persephone knows you well.

“Of course I know you. You're me, and I'm you.”

You look up into her eyes, and blink, for they are the exact color of your own eyes. It is a jarring point of similarity.

“What is this?”

“Just as I told you. Such crystals were used as storage devices. This one is not quite a dream, not quite a memory, bearing aspects of both.” She runs one elegant hand down along her gown, and smiles. “Part of this memory is mine – ours. From the time before the world went mad...happier days, when we had joy in plenty and had no idea of what bitterness was to come.”

She holds out her hand to you. “If you do not wish to explore this, you need do nothing but remain here,” she tells you. “But if you come with me to the party, I think you'll enjoy yourself quite a lot.” She winks at you. “We do have similar tastes.”

“Party?”

“Don't worry, it's a small gathering. Just the three – well, four – of us, a little dinner party.”

“...Hades.”

“Yes. You will hardly recognize him, but I think you will not be unhappy with the surprise.”

“I don't understand any of this.”

“Of course not. Dreams don't have to make sense, do they?”

No arguing with _that_.

You set your hand in hers. Why the hell not?

A dinner party, four settings at the table. Music plays from somewhere hidden. The house is quiet – a place outside the city. No robes here, no masks; in the privacy of one's own home, self-expression is unfettered. A flicker of memory – even within in the city things are not quite as monochrome and uniform as Emet-Selch's flawed recreation. Something about that tickles your mind, but you do not dwell on it.

The dining room and kitchen are a single room, separated by a wide, wooden topped counter; the table is covered with a white cloth printed with a design – sprigs of rosemary. You can't help but raise an eyebrow at Persephone, but she only smiles.

You take in everything around you, knowing that the details are all part of the memories inscribed here, and wondering how this dream-memory will play out. So much of what you have learned of the past has been bittersweet at best. You find yourself almost tensing with the expectation that something is going to go wrong.

A pleasant chime from the front door. Persephone goes to open it. You hang back, standing beside the counter, nerves prickling for an instant.

“Sorry that we're late. Hades couldn't pick out a tie.”

“Shut up, tomcat.”

The two men who step into the kitchen are very familiar indeed. Your mouth opens slightly as you take in the sight of Hades in a perfectly tailored black blazer and slacks. His hair is cut much the same as it had been the last time you saw him, but it is no longer a violet-brown bordering on black. Now, it is blond – a blond so pale it could be called white. His eyes remain the same, gold and molten, and his smile is just as sardonic as ever.

“Well, she can be coaxed into a dress after all,” he teases. “You look quite nice, Rosemary.”

In that strange way of dreams, it makes perfect sense that he knows you, is not surprised to see you. Just as it makes perfect sense when Raha steps around Hades and comes right up to you, his hands extended. “You look beautiful, love.”

Raha, too, wears a blazer and slacks – not quite as meticulously tailored, but he looks comfortable and handsome, with his hair in a set of clips to keep his bangs out of his eyes. His smile is the same smile you love so very much, and his eyes – _his eyes_...

There is a feeling as if reality itself has stuttered, then settles. Both of Raha's eyes are green, the very same green as your dress. But of course they are. There is no Allag, yet, no blood of royalty. This is a dream. A memory of a time that once was, never was, could have been.

Raha kisses you gently, and you accept the kiss, feeling just a little dazed. But his lips are plush and warm and delicious, his hands hold yours, tender and loving. Nothing is wrong here. Nothing could ever be wrong, with Raha beside you.

“You look as if you might fall over,” he says. His tone is light and teasing but a flicker of concern crosses his face. “Are you famished, love?”

Hades and Persephone both chuckle. They are holding each other – his arm over her shoulder, and her arm around his waist. “Well then, let us sit down and eat,” Hades suggests.

The meal passes as meals so often do in dreams – instantly and without incident. You are aware that the food was delicious, that the wine was excellent. But the table is cleared of dishes now, and the wine is gone, and the four of you have laughed until your face aches.

“Well then,” Persephone smiles, and there is anticipation in her eyes. “Shall we begin the entertainment?”

You begin to ask – _what entertainment_ – but then you see Hades unfastening his cuff links. His blazer already hangs off the back of his chair, as does Raha's. Your eyes flicker away from Hades to your beloved, and you realize that he is loosening his tie, an eager grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

For one breathless moment you are astonished and no little dismayed. Why are they undressing, right here and now?

But then – the assertion of dream logic, dream reality – and you glance down at the table cloth and realize that the hint was in front of you the entire time.

 _You_ are about to become the entertainment for the evening.

You look up and meet Persephone's eyes. She stands up, and holds her hand out to you. “We can move to the bedroom if you'd prefer.”

“I – ” You falter. All four of you, together? It is not a foreign concept but it is also not something you have ever tried.

She eases closer, and whispers in your ear. “It is a dream, a wish, a memory, all of these and none of them. No harm will come to you, this is all in the mind. Relax, enjoy yourself.”

You swallow once, and nod.

Persephone moves around until she is behind you, and strokes your shoulders, easing the straps of your gown down. Her breath is warm on your neck as she leans down and murmurs in your ear once more. “Look at them,” she commands, and your eyes drift over to the men, who have continued to undress, methodically, their movements unhurried. They both smile at you, smiles warm with anticipation and rising lust. Answering lust flares along your veins and pools in your core, and you feel your cheeks growing warm as Persephone continues to speak, her thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your bared shoulders.

“They are most eager to please the two of us, are they not? Think how well they know us, how well they can serve our pleasure. Think how delightfully they will come for us.”

You shudder, and your breathing grows ragged.

“On the table first,” Hades inquires, as he finishes opening his shirt, “or on the bed?”

“Or on the couch?” offers Raha, his shirt off. Your eyes fix on him, on the scarlet hair that generously covers his chest, the freckles on his upper arms. You cannot hold yourself in check – any desire to hesitate has evaporated in the wash of heat that his appearance summons up from within you.

You move toward him, and lift your hands to stroke his chest – then you reach up to loop your arm around his neck and kiss him.

“I think she doesn't want to wait,” Persephone chuckles.

It is not clear to you just when you took off your dress. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you are bare, and your legs are spread wide as you recline on the table. The tablecloth is soft beneath you. You feel a warm body behind you, and hands knead your breasts even as they support your weight so that you might lay back without becoming unsteady. It takes you one dizzy moment to realize that Persephone is the one holding you thus. Hades is sitting in a chair, golden eyes gleaming in the light as he watches.

Raha is between your legs, his beautiful eyes intent upon your sex as he positions himself to feast.

His touch is electric, and your hips rock slightly as he strokes your thighs. He presses a kiss to the inside of your leg just above the knee, and then lower, one kiss at a time trailing his way closer and closer to his goal.

You bite your lip hard when he kisses the top of your mound, and you cannot restrain the upward snap of your hips. He laughs softly as he meets your gaze, and does not break eye contact as he eases his mouth over your sex.

Persephone rolls your nipples between her fingers, and you hiss and arch. Then, Raha's tongue slides against your inner flesh, and you moan aloud.

“Open her farther,” Hades says, a hint of complaint to his tone. “I can't see.”

You find yourself spreading your legs wider, as Raha puts his hands underneath you and lifts your hips off the table. Only the way that Persephone cradles you allows you to remain steady and stable. Your heels are on the very edge of the table, and you press back against her, teeth gritting as you moan once more under Raha's ravenous tongue.

Vaguely you are aware that Hades has opened his slacks, is handling his cock as he watches the three of you. His cock is massive, and darkening as he strokes it.

Then you are thoroughly distracted by the things Raha is doing to you, and rational thought becomes unimportant. He is _wonderful_ , the sensations he is causing are so very good and yet –

“More,” you pant, “Raha, I need more – please – _oh_ , ah damn it, _please_ Raha – ”

You yelp when Persephone pinches your breasts and nipples, but the intensity is too good, and you toss your head for a moment, inarticulate and writhing between them.

She releases one of your breasts and grips your chin in those elegant fingers, a grip stronger than you might have expected. Her mouth on yours is hot and hungry and demanding, and you whine in your throat, your body shuddering.

Raha lifts his head from where he sups upon you.

But, before you can say a word, Hades is standing up, his cock nearly purple with need, and Raha is shifting aside.

Persephone releases your mouth. “Yes,” she hisses, lust thickening her voice. “Give her all she can take.”

Your hips buck, slamming against the table for a moment, before Raha comes around the table to take a place behind you. Now he and Persephone _both_ brace you, and two hungry mouths fasten on your nipples. Your mouth opens but no sound emerges.

Hades smiles down at you, and you cannot look away from those golden eyes. His hands are gentle as he strokes your knees, your thighs. The head of his cock rests against the damp curls of your sex...and then you feel his aether.

It is cool against your flesh, and you gasp as he lifts you, steadies your legs with ropes woven of naught but air and shadow. More aether oozes across your back and along your arms, and you recognize it by its warmth before you see the scarlet color of the bindings now gently imprisoning your wrists and drawing them up, up and over your head.

You whimper for an instant as you feel yourself fully suspended above the table. But Raha's mouth relentlessly suckles at your breast, Persephone feasts upon the other, and their hands, now freed, wander up and down your back and sides, stroking fire into life everywhere they touch you.

Hades murmurs. “Don't close your eyes.”

Slowly, he begins to ease himself forward.

He is huge – if not the largest cock you have ever encountered, then _certainly_ in the top five.

Restrained at wrists and knees, bound in shadow and fire and caged by hungry mouths and insistent hands, you cannot hold back. Your voice rises, crying out, moaning, gasping, pleading. You struggle against your bonds, only because you cannot help yourself, but they hold you firm among them, gentle and loving and utterly without mercy.

When Hades hilts himself within you, you let out a primitive yowl of lust. Your mind is hazy with pleasure and over-stimulation, your flesh quakes, and yet you _still_ are not quite at the point of orgasm. It is the most incredible torture – beyond anything you could ever have dreamed for yourself.

Fiery aether traces along your back and shoulders and down to your waist. Cool, dark aether grips your hips. You are lifted, stretched – you lose sight of Hades as your head is tipped back, your arms spread apart. Your limbs tremble, taut almost to the point of discomfort, but you are solidly held and you know somehow that they will not drop you nor let you come to harm.

Your position forces your breasts upward, making them even easier to knead and suck and torment; your sex throbs around the massive cock yet buried inside it; your blood thunders in your ears and you pant harshly. If they bend you any further you shan't be able to breathe...

But they do not.

Instead, Hades begins to fuck you, with sure, hard thrusts.

Your world narrows until you see nothing, hear nothing, you are made only of sensation and pleasure, you are a vessel for the cock that ravages your sex and a fount for the thirsty mouths that yet feast upon you. Your own aether bursts forth from your skin as you gasp and cry, creating a short lived whirlwind that rattles the chandelier and cools the sweat standing on your skin.

Persephone grasps your aether with her own – dark like Hades' aether, but where he is shadow and the hint of ice, she is a thunderstorm on the horizon. She envelopes you with her power, then she flows over the two men as well.

You shriek once as you feel her connect all four of you. The connection lasts but an instant – but in that instant, bliss such as no mortal could ever endure! The orgasm that washes over you is echoed by three bodies, reverberating along the lines of aether that Persephone has woven.

Hades groans above you, slamming his cock into you one final time before he pulls out and lets loose his seed to splash across your belly. The creamy splatter doesn't even have time to cool before Persephone is devouring it, messily lapping at your flesh, even using her fingers to scoop up wayward strands of the thick pearly fluid.

Even as you shudder and weep, Raha's aether is shifting you, letting your body relax, and he is cradling your head in his hands, stroking your hair away from your face, and pressing tender kisses to your forehead, your eyes, your cheeks, your mouth.

“You did so very well, my love,” he is murmuring, “Sh, sh, it's all right.”

You gulp for air, sobbing quietly, overwrought. Vaguely you sense Persephone and Hades moving away, stripping off the rest of their clothing, kissing each other. You feel Hades' aether, and Raha's, letting you down gently until you are on your back on the table, still panting heavily, covered in sweat and fluids.

Raha picks you up in his arms, and carries you through the house to the bedroom.

The water is warm, and the cloth is softer than anything you've ever washed with in your mortal life. You are grateful for it, for you feel rather as if your skin will fall off if rubbed too hard. You are deliciously exhausted and shivering with the remnants of over-stimulation.

Persephone cleanses your body; Hades is at your feet, having already cleaned your sex and wiped away the few drops of sticky come that had escaped Persephone's notice, being that they were splattered along your thighs. Raha, meanwhile, has washed your face and even combed your hair, relieving the slight itch of sweat along your scalp; now he is feeding you, tiny bites of succulent melon, and murmuring to you of how wonderful you are, how resilient, how impressive.

You sigh, and shut your eyes for a moment. You wonder what will happen if you fall asleep now. Would you awaken in the real world?

But you are not going to be allowed to drift off.

Dark aether laced with levin dances across your belly, and your eyes pop open as you gasp.

Persephone grins down at you from where she sits on the bed beside you.

“Now, my darling soul-sister, it's _my_ turn.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was wholly the fault of the Book Club -grin-
> 
> Here's the info if you would like to come holler and have a good time with us:  
> Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club  
> https://discord.gg/8C6ZKTj


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